


the ghost of you

by naimeria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Season/Series 06 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 06:46:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naimeria/pseuds/naimeria
Summary: the suffering of others can't escape you once they're in your heart.keith holds shiro close.





	the ghost of you

**Author's Note:**

> maybe when you write something at 1 in the morning you should proofread and wait to post it
> 
> or do what I'm doing and say fuck it take my emotions

Before the dust settles, they leave the comfort of land beneath their feet and take to the stars. Can't get too complacent, not while you're homeless. (They're not, not really, but it doesn't make it hurt less.)

 

The diamond sits in Blue’s hull, a shining beacon reminding the only three Alteans of this reality what they're fighting for. Allura listens while Romelle regales her of the years she’s lost, the joys and sorrows her people have seen without her. Guilt, it seems, is no stranger to them. 

 

Keith feels it, too, gnawing at his insides like a living thing. Even now, as he watches Shiro’s prone form, so trusting as he rests in the grip of the Black Lion, he feels it like his own heartbeat. Guilt is an old friend, felt while fighting alongside the Blade, knowing he wilfully left his brothers-in-arms, left the only person who ever really mattered to him. 

 

(He has more of those, now, which Keith supposes was the point.) 

 

Keith’s hand rests atop Shiro’s chest, counting each rise and fall as his breaths come easily. Would he have known, had he merely stayed?  _ You choose to be alone _ Shiro had said, only if wasn't really Shiro at all. Then again, the chest beneath him was designed, built to one day be a weapon. Does this body bear all of the Champion’s scars, or did they only fit him with the one everyone sees, to help him play the part? Keith doesn’t want to think in platitudes, but they come for him anyway. 

 

Shiro shifts, as if sensing Keith's unease, and by the time he’s blinking awake Keith has a smile waiting for him. “Hey,” he says, and Shiro smiles back. 

 

“Hey. Where we headed?” 

 

“Earth.” Home. 

 

Shiro nods, making to sit up. Keith moves his hand from his chest and helps him rise, watching for any pain. Apart from the arm, Shiro seems hale, though still white-faced and tired beyond words. Even through it, he's looking at Keith like he’s the rising sun at the end of a long cold night. 

 

“Wanna try to eat?” Keith asks, shying away from such unfiltered love. Does he remember going for Keith's throat, searing his flesh with the blade buried in his arm? Does he remember Keith crying for him, mourning the loss of the man right in front of him? 

 

Shiro shakes his head, expression rueful. “It's been a long time.” He’s talking about food, but Keith thinks of the empty months, of him watching through ethereal eyes as the world spiraled out of their control. “I'm just tired. Sorry,” Shiro adds, and he really looks it. 

 

Irrationally, Keith feels anger pool in his gut. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says instead of screaming  _ you don't get to apologize for dying, you get to live and let us apologize every day for not finding you sooner.  _ He clenches his jaw, teeth gnashing together against words he needs to say, but can't. 

 

You're alive because of your will, not because of me. You saved me, and I let you down. 

 

Shiro’s eyebrows pull together, but he says nothing, just blinks groggily in the comfort of Black’s cockpit. Keith sighs, all the fight going out of him. The fact that Shiro is likely misinterpreting his frustration makes the guilt resurface, and Keith doesn't know how to combat it without doing something stupid, like screaming into his shirt or maybe crying. 

 

He settles for shifting down so Shiro is resting against his arm, and pulls him in closer. White hair tickles his chin, and Shiro lets out a long breath, tension bleeding out of every muscle. 

 

“You should eat,” Shiro mumbles, already half asleep. Having your consciousness shoved into a form that needs things like air and food and rest must be exhausting. 

 

“I'm fine. Maybe later.” 

 

Shiro nods, energy spent, and Keith can do nothing to combat the swell of love that fills him from fingers to toes. Pressing his lips to Shiro's hair is the easiest thing in the world. 

 

Soon, the familiar rhythmic rise-and-fall is back, a balm for Keith’s anxious thoughts. He’s alive, and he’s here. 

 

Keith holds Shiro close, marvels at the fact that he can, and watches the stars as they pass them by.

**Author's Note:**

> I just have way too many sheith feelings.


End file.
